


Just One Yesterday

by FranklyMrShankly



Series: Eerily Similar One-Shots [3]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, Dubious Consent to Violence, Frank-Evan, Frevan - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence, based on my life, weird i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FranklyMrShankly/pseuds/FranklyMrShankly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I thought of angels choking on their halos. Get them drunk on rosewater; see how dirty I can get them. Pulling out their fragile teeth and clip their tiny wings.</p><p> </p><p>Another Frevan masquerading as a Frerard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm getting married tomorrow. And I'm nostalgic.

“Sir says I can’t see you anymore. We’re not allowed to be alone together or to call each other or anything. No more Frankie for Gee,” I started, almost conversationally as I stirred the pot on the stove. 

 

Frank bolted upright from his position on the couch across the open floorspace, opposite my kitchenette. He stood and stalked over to me. 

 

“Are you serious?” Frankie shouted at me, his hands thrown up in frustration. He might scare other people, but I knew him too well. I had been too close. 

 

“Of course I’m serious,” I said with a shrug. “Why would I joke about this? I’m not allowed to see you anymore. You interfere with my role in our relationship and if I want to keep seeing Sir, I need to stop seeing you.” I paused for a moment and laughed, picking up my drink from the table. “I think it’s more than that though, you know? When I’m with Sir, I’m really with him. He has no cause for complaint. I just think he’s jealous that I’m not only with him. It’s fucking flattering.” 

 

“Is this goodbye, then? Is that why you invited me over?” he yelled. 

 

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yeah. That’s me, all right. Tear-filled goodbye over pasta sauce.” He grabbed my hips and I winced a little, which made Frank frown at me and pull my shirt up. The bruises that lined my flesh were that day old purple-blue-black, and they hurt a great deal under his rough fingertips. Normally, when Frank pressed against my bruised skin, I would whimper or moan. There is nothing wrong with a little pain, now, is there? But today I frowned.

 

These bruises were not Frank’s doing. He hadn’t bruised me in far too long, and honestly, I’d missed it. These bruises made Frank’s face fall. They made him worried. He’d told me over and over again that he thought Iain was too aggressive with me; not giving me enough time to heal or adequate time to safeword. I eventually stopped answering his questions about our sexlife, but the evidence was all over my skin all the time. Frank wasn’t stupid. He hated Iain, and with, what he considered, good reason.

+++

_There had been one time that I was afraid to see Frank after spending a weekend at Iain’s. He’d practically beaten the tar out of me and then fucked me so hard that I’d blacked out. By the time Monday had rolled around I was unable to get out of bed to go to classes or eat or pee or fucking anything. I wasn’t answering Frank’s calls or texts and every time he came to my door I pretended not to be home, but again, he wasn’t stupid._

 

_On Tuesday morning, he let himself in as I was limping from the kitchen to the couch. The journey to get food had taken me about an hour to make, but I was starving. I kept the aspirin in the kitchen, anyway._

 

_“That key is for emergencies only, dickface,” I said to my best friend._

 

_“You not answering me for days is an emergency,” he replied, walking over to help me to the couch. He stole a look at my face and saw the bruising along my cheek and my split lip and he realized I wasn’t just sex-sore. “What the fuck, baby? Did he do this? I’m going to fucking kill him.” He deposited me on my couch and stopped me from dropping my sandwich. “I will fucking murder him. Oh my god. Do you need a hospital? Is anything broken? Take off your shirt, honey…”_

 

_I smiled at him and shrugged, batting his hands away from my shirt. He didn’t need to see the mess Sir had made of my stomach and ribs. “I’m fine. Just sore. I earned this, Frankie. I made him punish me. He told me it would hurt if I didn’t listen… I probably should have listened.” I tried to laugh, but it made me cough._

 

_“Why didn’t you use your word, honey? Oh my god. You don’t like it that rough. I know you don’t,” he cooed over me and kissed my hair, bringing a gentle arm around my shoulders._

 

_He was right, of course. Iain had actually been way too rough with me. Even the amazing sex I’d gotten afterward hadn’t made the pain for fear worth it, and I was starting to worry a little. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be sitting right or breathing right or looking right for weeks. The gag in my mouth had been too secure and my hands were bound too well. I was unable to safe word. Iain wasn’t much for aftercare, either, so it had been a mind-blowing orgasm, a nap, and a ride home. I was feeling rather awful; both physically and emotionally, so I sunk into Frank and sighed in relief._

 

_“I don’t know, baby. I should have. I guess I thought I could take it,” I lied. I made a point to add bondage and gagging to my yellow light list. If I couldn’t signal or speak, how would Sir know when he was being too forceful? It wasn’t his fault. I should have spoken up before being both bound and gagged with no back up signals._

 

 _“This isn’t the first time he’s gone too far without you stopping him, baby,” Frank said into my neck. “Are you sure he’s giving you the opportunity to say no?”_ _He was choosing his words carefully, I knew, not wanting to upset me._

 

_“Yeah, Sugar.” I hated lying to Frank. “It’s my fault. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”_

 

_“See that you do, honey. And let me know if I ever get the green light to filet this bastard. Eat that sandwich. I’ll make you some tea? After you finish, I’ll rub cream into your sore muscles and we can cuddle in bed. Watch a movie or six?” Frank always knew just what I needed._

 

_“Don’t you have class? Work?” I asked with a bemused smile, already knowing his answer._

 

_“Taking care of you is my first job. Just like you always take care of me, first.”_

 

_“I love you so much, you doofus,” I told him._

 

_“I love you even more, you irresponsible twat.”_

+++

Right now, Frank was looking like he was ready to scream or cry, I wasn’t sure. “This is it. He hurts you so badly and then tells you you can’t even _talk_ to me anymore? You’re done, Gee. Right? Please fucking tell me you’re done with him.”

I turned off the stove and turned around. "Of course I'm done with him." I placed my hand on his cheek and stroked the skin beside his mouth with the pad of my thumb. "I can't just give you up, Frankie. You're the only thing in my life that ever makes sense." I leaned up to kiss him softly, as his arms circled my middle very gently. The wetness on his face made me pause and I looked up in confusion. Frank was crying. 

"Thank god, Gerard. Thank fuck..." He kissed me again, with only a little more force and I found myself being swallowed up by his very presence. Arms around me, lips against mine, tongue in my mouth. I winced a little as he grabbed my ass and lifted me off the floor and set me on the cool countertop, pressing himself between my parted things and attacking my mouth again with his. 

"I was so, so, so fucking worried all the time," he breathed as his kisses made their way down my neck and his tongue found the hollow of my collarbone. 

"Christ," I muttered, weaving my hands through his hair. "Bedroom? Frankie, please... take me to bed." 

He looked up at me and grinned. "Yes, Sir." I was scooped up into his arms at the next moment and being carried down the hall to my tiny bedroom. He set me on the bed gently and began to remove my clothes, almost reverently, taking the time to caress every scar or bruised with light fingertips and even lighter kisses. It felt so much like being in love and I felt my entire body go alight. Everything was suddenly me and Frank and no one and nothing else mattered. 

Once I was naked and glowing from the attention, he removed his clothes in abrupt, unceremonious movements. I reached out for him and he obliged, coming closer to me and allowing my hands to roam, stroking his muscles and feeling the power of his thighs and the lines of his back and the weight of his cock. "Gerard," he gasped as I starting moving my hand in a rhythm against the silky flesh, pausing only to lick my palm and reapply it to him to ease the motion. His forehead dropped until it touched my shoulder and he shuddered. I loved these moments, where I could make him simper and crumble and call my name with barely even a hand job.

I could feel him kissing the flesh where my shoulder and chest meet and started to squirm. With each gasp he made, I was growing harder. My hips bucked upward into his thigh and I moaned a little in return. "Jesus, Frank. You're beautiful like this."

Before I could even protest, he backs away from where my hand was working him and leaned down, nipping at the inside of my thigh before bypassing all preamble and taking the head of my cock into his mouth.

"Fuck... shit!" The man had a way with his tongue and I was not above grinding myself upward into the heat and suction of his mouth. "Christ, Frank. Shit. Baby... please." I wasn't exactly sure what I was begging for, but I was guessing Frank knew because he relaxed his throat and took nearly all of me in. My hands fisted themselves in the sheets of my bed and in Frank's hair as I let out inhuman noises. "Yes... yes that!" 

Just before I made a mess of his face, Frank stopped and looked up at me with hooded eyes and a swollen mouth. "Fuck me, Gee. Please. I need you to..." 

Before he could finish his sentence, I was sitting up and reaching over the side of my bed with one hand to pump a handful of lube from the jug and using the other to draw my best friend close. We connected again with a kiss and Frank was in my lap, my right hand coming up behind him to smear the substance over his hole and gently inside with one finger at first, then two.  By the time I added a third, he was making desperate noises into my mouth and getting up onto his knees. He pushed me back against the headboard and I lost the ground I'd gained in his ass. 

"Gonna ride you. Lean back," he said as he moved the pillow that was filling the space between my lower back and the head of the bed, he replaced the pillow with the legs he was curling around me and then raised himself up. I quickly put on a condom and lined my self up with his entrance and gasped as he pushed himself down slowly. It had been such a while for him and I could tell that every inch was hard-won. When I was finally buried in him completely, he rested his head on my shoulder and squeezed his thighs around me,making me inhale sharply as my bruises were re-injured. He didn't seem to notice too much, dealing with the adjustment of his own pain. I ran my hands down his back and kissed his neck and whispered loving things to him as I waited, desperately just wanting him to  _move._

When he was finally ready he began to rock back and forth on me, never really pulling all the way up. "God, I feel so full of you. I love being this close, Gee," he whispered as I met him with shallow thrusts. We took our time, telling each other how beautiful we thought they were and how much we loved each other. My hand found his cock after mine had found his prostate and we rocked and groaned and kissed and touched until we were both sated; him making a mess of our stomachs and me releasing while still buried inside of him.

After we disentangled and disposed of the rubber and found an old tee shirt on my floor to wipe up with, we laid side by side on top of the sheets, just joined by our hand. Completely fucked out and happily grinning, I rolled over to my side. "You didn't really think I would stay with him if it meant never seeing you, did you?"

He looked over to me, "I was scared, Gee. I'm always scared that I'm going to lose you, you know? Like when you love something so much, you're always terrified of it being gone?" He put a hand on my face. 

"What? Fuck you. You're never going to lose me. No matter whatever else, I'm always going to love you. Even if we're not like... fucking... you know? Like... you'll always be mine and a part of me," I said. I was stumbling over my words. I knew what I wanted; I wanted to be his and only his. I wanted to wake up next to Frank every day and not worry about what anyone was gonna say.

But I knew I couldn't. My life was pretty well fucked up, in the crazy sense. I was doing too many drugs and drinking too much and screwing too many people indiscriminately... if I tried to be faithful and worthy of him, it would only be a matter of time before I fucked things up. Before I broke his heart bad enough for him to just walk away from me forever. 

Having him all to myself for a short time wasn't worth that risk.

"You gonna tell Daisy?" I asked him, changing the subject and reminding myself of another reason I couldn't be his boyfriend. He was taken.

"She probably already knows, but yeah. I will," he said, pushing me over and laying his face on my chest. Our other partners always knew that Frank and I were a packaged deal. They knew we were best friends and that we hugged and cuddled and kissed and exchanged 'I love yous' and occasional orgasms... If they couldn't cope with it, they just couldn't stick around. 

As it was, Daisy still fucking hated me. They had been on and off again since high school and were currently very on again. As in, she was living in his apartment with a ring on her finger in the married sense. I kind of hated her, too. 

"Love you Frankie," was what I said instead of voicing my thoughts.

"Love you, too, Gee," he replied with a lazy, happy smile. 

 


End file.
